Bad feelings are one part of what sucks about this world. Good feelings are the other. Because the good stuff is what can get taken from you, the rug that gets pulled out from under you. A warming feeling that, once it's gone, leaves you out in the...
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S I D D I Q
I was there. I was taken with the others, and I saw what happened. I was supposed to die with them. I was ready to.
Then, Megan whispered in my ear, telling me to run. She said that in case they didn't make it, I should be the one to tell the story. That she and Enid would stay back and help free the kids. But, before I could make a run for it, something hit me, and everything went black.
And when I woke up, I was alone. What happened was evil. It was evil. And I'm lucky to be alive to tell you the story. Not to scare you and drive us all apart again, but to tell you my own version of the story.
See—before the end—Ozzy, Alek and DJ found us. And they gave us an opening. Megan had gotten herself free, and instead of leaving us all behind, she helped untie the cloths around our wrists—my wrist.
And everyone fought back. They fought like hell. And what they did was more than brave, because they defended each other. And they sacrificed for each other. And some of them—they didn't even know each other, but they still fought like they did. Like they were family. Until the very end.
And—uh—And in the end, their time was cut short, but ours keeps going. So we have to keep going. For them, and for all of us.
We need to honor them. We need to honor them, and we need to remember these friends—our family—died as heroes. That's the story that I was meant to tell you. That's the story that I want us all to remember.
M E G A N
Dear Carl,
I love you.
I don't know why I didn't tell you sooner—while you were still breathing. I guess I was just scared. But having those feelings—loving you wasn't the part I was afraid of. It was what was bound to come after.
If I would've told you how I felt—that I loved you, I thought would've made everything more real. That after I said those words, everything would somehow hurt more. But, Carl, you were the realest thing that's ever happened to me. Everything, from start to finish—it was all real. And I wish that it didn't take me so long to realize it.
I thought that me telling you those three words—that it would've made everything worse, when the inevitable were to happen. I thought that it might even make the pain come faster—maybe even initiate some cosmic plan to strike one of us down. But I was wrong. Not saying it didn't change anything—not in the moment.
